Chapter 28 - Comfort Zones
Christmas had seemed to be a turning point for Emma and Ryan, a turn back towards the comfort level they’d found before Ryan and Trent’s errant kiss. Emma continued to go to hockey games with Ryan occasionally joining her, and often went to his therapy sessions as well when they didn’t interfere with team practices.
On this night – Valentine’s Day as it were – Ryan had decided to go along, in no small measure so he could ogle Emma in the new suit she’d bought after she’d shrunk out of the one her brother bought for her. Blue with faint gold pinstripes, and a matching pair of gold heels borrowed from Gabi – she was smokin’. And he had zero hesitation when the kiss cam turned on them, first kissing her cheek, and then when she turned to face him, cradling her face and kissing with unspoken promises for later in the evening.
Once the game finally ended, Ryan and Emma both headed down to the locker room area, with Ryan proceeding inside to chat with the current starting goalie, half-listening to the rest of the conversations going on around him. It wasn’t until he heard – someone – say “that was so fucking gay” that he looked up, and he knew before he could get in a word edgewise that Luke would.
The voice had been from one of the 10-day contract guys, someone brought in to fill the overload of injuries and call ups to the ‘higher level’ club, and based on everything Ryan heard, someone who wouldn’t be re-signed. Luke told him as he rose to his feet with eyes hardening, “We don’t use that kind of language in here.”
Snorting, the young man, whose name Ryan recalled to be Johnson, asked, “Why, one of you a fag or something?”
And again, before Ryan could get in a word edgewise, this time it was Trent throwing himself out there, rising alongside Luke and standing in his most intimidating posture, growling low, “Not precisely, but some of us aren’t exactly straight either. And last I checked, it affects nothing with how we play on this ice, or interact as teammates, or friends.”
This time, Ryan was able to get a word in, soon inserting, “Yep, I’m bisexual, it’s been pretty well common knowledge since what, training camp?” And if there were any flickers of surprise on his teammate’s faces, they were well hidden, and heads nodded around the locker room.
“Ahhh, you’re the one too busy sucking face with the reporter to do anything useful on the ice. So, if you’re a pussy, does that make your girl a butch?”
Edging away from Luke and closer to this big mouthed sad excuse for a teammate, Ryan kept his tone even, but anyone even remotely familiar with him would have recognized the fire in his eyes. “What it makes her, besides in love with me, I don’t care.”
No sooner had the words left his mouth then a fist flew out and caught him in the lip, sending him backwards a bit even as he remained on his feet. He could feel the swelling already, could taste the blood, and by the time he looked up, Ryan noted that several of his other teammates had tackled Johnson to the ground, pinning him there.
“Monsieur Johnson. I hope you know with that action, you will never play for this team, or anyone else in this league again.” Luke’s voice was again eerily calm, but even still, Johnson barked out a laugh at him.
“You’re just the fucked-up captain. You have no authority to do a fucking thing with my contract, and why would I want to play with a bunch of faggots anyways?”
Out of the corner of his eye, Ryan noted the door to the head coach’s office was open and that their coach was indeed standing in the doorway, watching this whole affair. After a lengthy pause, he finally spoke. “My captain may not have the authority to remove players from the team, but I do, and I rather agree with his assessment of your character. There’s no place for someone like you on a team like this. Or any team in this league – of that I’ll make certain.” The coach turned to walk back towards his office before glancing back over his shoulder and adding, “Boys, do whatever you need to do with him. You've got 5 minutes before security comes to escort him out.”
Almost immediately, all the eyes in the room turned to Luke, who in turn gazed at Ryan. Flexing his hands a bit, he murmured to Johnson’s captors. “Let him go. He may fight like a chicken, but I don’t.” When his opponent rose, they began to circle each other, much as they would if they were fighting on the ice. Ryan could mostly avoid the taller man’s attempted blows at his body and face, but one blow left his nose bleeding again. Still, he wouldn’t be distracted and instead he waited until Johnson exposed himself and immediately threw off a hard-right hook, not the least bit surprised when his dumbstruck opponent fell to the floor like a sack of bricks. Someone tossed Ryan a towel and he brought it up to his face, trying to staunch the bleeding. Sighing, he gazed around the room and spoke around the towel. “She’s gonna flip her shit. Think some of you guys could go out there and distract her?”
Trent stood up, gestured to a few of his teammates, and then gazed back at Ryan. “I’ve got it under control.”
A cough at the coach’s doorway reminded them that they were being watched, and after another moment, the head coach spoke. “Luke, Ryan, a word with you, if you please.”
Exchanging a glance, both cousins turned tail and headed into the coach’s office, unsure exactly what was about to occur.
~*~
“What do you mean I can’t go in there?” Emma was getting more agitated by the second, her patience with the normally easy going Trent thinning quickly. “You guys always let me in there after a game, after everyone is changed.” She paused then changed tactics soon, hoping to catch Trent off guard. “Is someone hurt? I heard what sounded like fighting.”
When Trent’s eyes widened a bit, Emma knew she was on the right track, even if his words told a different story entirely. “No, no fights. Just the coach yelling at our lackluster effort. I mean, these are our biggest rivals and we are likely going to be fighting them for a playoff spot – we should have provided Kensy better support tonight.”
Emma growled at the usage of the nickname and brought the recorder to her mouth, trying to keep the irritation out of her voice. “Kensy is Derrick Kensington, Blizzard starting goaltender.”
“Sorry.” Trent at least managed to sound somewhat contrite and Emma flipped off the recorder, tossing it in her satchel and staring at him with her arms folded beneath her chest.
“Why don’t we ever hang out together anymore?”
It was almost too easy to catch Trent off guard – his eyes widened like a deer in headlights, and he’d sputter briefly before trying to find the right words. “I don’t trust myself around you - or him - anymore. I don’t trust myself to behave, to not try and interfere in things that aren’t my place. I can’t change the way I feel – but neither can you two for each other. And I need to respect that.”
Face falling a bit, Emma leaned up to give Trent a tight hug, whispering near his ear, “You’ll always be my friend, though. You were there for me from the start, and that means more to me than you’ll ever know.”
Pulling back, but giving her a smile, Trent cut his eyes towards the locker room, almost as though he was waiting for a signal from someone inside to finally let Emma go. Pouncing on Trent’s comfort Emma asked, “So who was fighting in there?”
“The new guy Johnson and...” Trent stopped short and blinked, staring at Emma with wide eyes. “You don’t play fair!”
While Emma still didn’t have all the information she was seeking, she at least had more that could prospectively turn into a story. Patting Trent on the shoulder she gave him a small grin. “I’m a reporter, honey; it’s my job to sniff out the scoop.”
“Yeah well.” Trent turned to gaze back towards the locker room doors before turning his attention back to Emma. “I’m sure Ryan and all of them will be out shortly.”
~*~
It had been an interesting discussion with the head coach – surprising, but positive were the thoughts that immediately came to Ryan’s mind. Knowing that he not only had the coach’s support, but that they were willing to move him onto the active roster, to allow him to work out and lightly practice with his teammates? He couldn’t ask for much more than that.
As they finally exited the office, they noted that Johnson and all his stuff had been removed – and most of the team was still waiting in the locker room as well. That made Ryan uneasy until various players came up to him and started patting him on the back. One voice said, “Just want you to know that it doesn’t matter to me if you’re gay, straight, bi, whatever. You’re my teammate and I support you.” Several heads nodded before another voice spoke, “I’ll admit I’m disappointed that you mislead us - both of you - but I understand why you did. It’s easier to be accepted when you the team star then the injured player so.” The player shrugged and then offered Ryan a half smile. “You’re still my teammate.”
Ryan took a deep breath, trying to reign in emotions that were threatening to spiral out of control. It had been a crazy night to say the least, and he hadn’t even seen Emma yet, and she hadn’t seen the damage that had been done to his face. Thanking his teammates for their support, he received a few more back pats as he approached the door, peering out to find that Emma was deep into conversation with Trent.
Soundlessly he edged out of the room, not realizing most of his teammates were close behind. As soon as Emma saw him though, they all could see her reaction was pure, from the heart, not from a person serving as a cover to a gay player. “Oh my god! Your face!” She cried out and ran towards him, her hands moving up to gently cradle his face.
Leaning his forehead down against hers, Ryan wrapped his arms around her waist before he spoke softly. “It’s okay baby. I’m okay. Nothin’ a little ice won’t fix. And maybe some kisses. I can always use kisses.”
That got a soft, but shaky laugh out of her, and a half-hearted attempt to smack his chest. Giving him a look that meant business, she murmured quietly, “We’re going to discuss this more when we get home.”
“After dinner?” Ryan tried, even though he knew it would be a losing battle. When Emma shook her head, he tried again, “During dinner?” On her nod, he sighed a bit, but kissed her forehead, shifting his grip so he could walk out with her side-by-side.
He still wasn’t thrilled with what had gone down in the locker room, but at least he had her, and at least the drama was over and done with.